


A Girl Worth Fighting For

by crossroadswrite



Series: Howls From Last Night [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>(630): HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE TROPHY HUSBAND! I WAS GOING TO BE THE SUCCESSFUL ONE!<br/>(780): I found her outside drinking steak sauce out of the bottle.</b><br/>.<br/>Look, here’s the thing.</p>
<p>Cora has absolutely no grounds to be upset.</p>
<p>She has a job she loves pummeling other people into the ground, she has a beautiful, gorgeous, smart fiancée and she even has a little nightmare of a dog that chews on all their furniture. Hers and her wife-to-be’s that is. Because they live together and they’re happy.</p>
<p>They have wine Friday with some of their friends and family, they have amazing, life affirming sex and Cora always gets a sexy lingerie surprise when she wins a match. They have family dinners and they have banter and arguments and more life affirming make-up sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Girl Worth Fighting For

Cora is upset.

Cora should _not_ be upset but she is and ohgod Laura will mock her forever for this. Derek might too, but Derek is stupidly in love with his boyfriend to the point of actually making _mixtapes_ like this is a bad 80s show, so Derek doesn’t get an opinion.

Look, here’s the thing.

Cora has absolutely no grounds to be upset.

She has a job she loves pummeling other people into the ground, she has a beautiful, gorgeous, smart fiancée and she even has a little nightmare of a dog that chews on all their furniture. Hers and her wife-to-be’s that is. Because they live together and they’re _happy._

They have wine Friday with some of their friends and family, they have amazing, life affirming sex and Cora always gets a sexy lingerie surprise when she wins a match. They have family dinners and they have banter and arguments and more life affirming make-up sex.

The thing is, though, that at the tender age of twenty-four she has her life more or less figured out.

Keep cage fighting while sustaining as little injuries as possible and winning a big title. Show off her gorgeous girlfriend around galas and events and okay maybe the thing is that she was expecting Lydia to be her trophy wife.

Which, in all reality, had been completely idiotic from the very start because have you _met_ Lydia Martin?

She’s gorgeous and fierce and a goddamn hurricane of strawberry blonde curls that’s just the dressing for the amazingness she is inside.

Sometimes Cora has to take a moment to figure out how in the hell she got so lucky. She figures in some universe out there some really bad stuff happened for her to get all the good stuff in this one.

She sighs mournfully and takes a swig of steak sauce.

What? They ran out of wine last Friday. She doesn’t have the will to actually go buy some, _stop judging her_ and pay attention to why she’s upset.

So, Lydia recently won an award. A _math_ award. They call it a Field’s Medal and she won it. And when she won it she took Cora with her because even if Cora did not look forward to spend her time with stuffy nerds, she loves her girlfriend very much and likes to support her every single way she can.

Lydia had picked out the dress for her, had dictated exactly how Cora’s hair was going to look and what jewelry she was going to wear.

Cora hadn’t even fought her on it because she knew exactly how important this was to Lydia.

The thing is, though, half way through the night, after Lydia had made Cora hang from her arm and play nice, after she hadn’t mentioned even once what Cora did for a living, just how she was related to Lydia downgrading her to almost possession, had Cora realized Lydia had been treating her like a trophy wife and she _hated it_.

This is why Cora’s upset.

Because she just realized how much of a shitty girlfriend she has been to Lydia, not treating her like she deserves.

“What are you doing?” Lydia calls out from their back porch, nightmare dog tucked under her arm, “Is that steak sauce?”

“We’re out of wine,” Cora explains simply.

Lydia puts the little nightmare down and walks purposefully towards Cora, pulling up the chair in front of her and lifting an eyebrow, “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” Cora pouts.

“Oh, honey,” she sighs, “you’re drinking steak sauce. Out of the bottle. You’re obviously upset, so tell me why.”

Cora goes to take another swig out of the bottle but Lydia snatches it from her hands.

“I was drinking that,” she complains.

“I don’t care. Tell me why you’re upset so I can fix it. I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Cora sighs, turns her gaze onto the grass tickling her naked feet.

“I’m a terrible girlfriend,” she tells Lydia.

“Who told you that?” Lydia demands and Cora has never been so proud because that tone of voice right there is the _who do I have to fight_ tone.

Lydia is adorable in all her tiny, intellectual glory.

Cora has no doubt she could throw down with a bitch if need be, though.

She’s pretty sure there isn’t one single thing in this world Lydia Martin cannot do.

“Just- I realized I have been a twat. For the way I treat you when we go to events.”

“Like your trophy wife?”

Cora nods, decides the best course of action is beg for forgiveness so she bounces off her chair and right into straddling Lydia’s thighs, her hair spills messily around them and Lydia gathers it up, sweeping all of it over one of Cora’s shoulders.

“Sorry, I’m a terrible future-wife,” she says earnestly, and then, “I’m not saying it again.”

Lydia grins her smart I-know-things grin, “I appreciate that,” she says softly, reaching up to kiss Cora.

Cora has to bend down a little to reach her lips and this right here is why she’s not wearing tall heels for their wedding. Lydia wants them to be more or less at the same height.

“But you see this?” she asks and taps her necklace, which now that Cora’s noticing, looks new and expensive, “Yeah, honey, I’ve been placing some bets on my best girl,” she pecks her on the lips again and grins like she knows exactly how many aces the other player has and the answer is none.

“You’ve been placing bets on me and winning money?”

Lydia does her little what-can-you-do-I’m-just-that-good shrug, her grin turns that little bit sharper.

“It really helps when they think you’re just some ditzy little trophy wife.”

“God I love you,” Cora confesses, ducking down and kissing the breath out of her.

When she pulls back, Lydia’s hands are on her thighs and her grin has turned sultry.

“I know.”

She taps her thighs, “Get off and go brush your teeth, I’m not having sex with you while you taste like steak sauce,” she wrinkles her nose and Cora _has_ to lean down and kiss it.

Lydia gives her a soft smile, and links their fingers together, letting Cora back away from her lap and then pull her up.

“Besides, you were always going to be the trophy wife.”

Cora growls and just to teach her tugs her up until she has an armful of genius and strides towards the house in between cherry flavored lipstick messy kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> what am i doing? we just don't know.


End file.
